


Mr. Blue Sky

by Pansexualweirdo



Category: Solar Opposites
Genre: Aliens, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, I Promise It's Not Confusing, Jesse's Got The Brains, Light Angst, M/M, Music, Mutual Pining, My First Work in This Fandom, Not a Song-Fic, Secrets, Self-Esteem Issues, Sharing a Bed, Tension, The Term Kids And Replicants Are Used For Jesse And Yumyulack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29173086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pansexualweirdo/pseuds/Pansexualweirdo
Summary: Korvo is finally starting to warm up to human stuff: specifically music. Specifically music involving the word blue.Why? That's for Terry to find out. But it turns out not to be the easiest task; as his partner's pretty deep in denial about it.
Relationships: Korvo & Terry (Solar Opposites), Korvo/Terry (Solar Opposites), Terry & Jesse (Solar Opposites), Terry & Yumyulack (Solar Opposites)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 28





	Mr. Blue Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first contribution to this fandom! I love Polar Opposites and hope I can do the characters justice. If you have any critiques or feedback, I'd love to hear it. Kudos are always appreciated, too. <3
> 
> Here's a playlist for the songs mentioned in this fic and some more blue-centric bops if anyone's interested: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0sBli5XXwTMgyRVcECT0IC?si=bokdOK9URxGI7h9A3LZu8g 
> 
> Enjoy your read!

During a particularly slow day, Terry’s distracted from his mediocre TV-show bingeing by the low humming of a familiar song from the kitchen. Korvo should be in there making them and the replicants dinner, but he usually isn’t so… vocal, when he does chores.

What attracts Terry’s curiosity is the song choice; if it was Schlorpian music, then it wouldn’t surprise him, but this is a catchy, human chart-topper, and Korvo hasn’t shown any enthusiasm whatsoever about anything _human_ , much less human _culture_. So this peaks Terry’s interest. He leaves the current episode on-screen to continue playing so Korvo won’t suspect him listening in.

He enters the kitchen to find the ship expert’s robe-clad back facing him as he works on the stove, flipping pancakes on the pan. He’s surprisingly good at flipping them, too. They take turns making dinner for the family, so maybe it shouldn’t be that surprising to Terry, but Korvo normally maintains a pretty serious demeanor, so seeing him enjoy himself while doing something as mundane as cooking is a welcome change. He’s even gently swaying back and forth to the rhythm, his coat swishing with the movements. His humming is more distinct now that they’re in the same room, and the melody is unmistakable.

“Mr. Blue Sky, huh?” Terry asks, near causing his friend who previously was unaware of his presence to drop the pan on his foot. Instead, he gets off easy by only knocking an egg over from the counter and onto the floor. “T- Terry! Don’t fucking sneak up on me like that!”

Somehow, they both bend over to take care of the cracked egg at the same time and they end up knocking their heads together. “Ow!” they both whine, rubbing at the sore spots left by the impact. In the end, Terry cleans the mess up that he’s partially, if not _entirely_ responsible for, while Korvo makes sure dinner isn’t burned. He keeps his eyes diverted from his partner’s at all costs, his face a shade of deep blue as he tries to come up with an excuse for humming on a human song.

“I heard it on the radio the other day, I- I guess it stuck,” he settles for, sounding upset with himself for admitting as much. And sure, it’s a decent explanation, but Korvo usually turns off the radio if he can hear it. He won’t even have the car stereo on unless the replicants nag at him enough, says ‘the noise interrupts his work’. So the only reason he’d get a song stuck in his head would be that he listened to it voluntarily. Terry’s no detective, but the scenario seems plausible to him. So he humors the blue Schlorpian. “Right. Okay. Makes sense. Does that mean you _like_ the song?”

“What? No! Don’t be ridiculous! I’ve told you; human music is just noise to me,” Korvo replies, far too quickly for it to be true, and he’s further given away by the fact that he’s sweating stress-gooblers. The little creatures scatter and run off into the other room, and Terry thinks he can catch a glimpse of the pupa chasing them. He rolls his eyes, then turns back to his friend, who’s being paranoid in vain. And he tells him so.

“I know, I know... But you’re _allowed_ to like it. You know that, right?”

“Well, yea, no-duh! But I don’t.”

And Korvo decides that’s the end of that conversation, as he turns his back to Terry to prepare their food. He turns on the electric mixer to whisk the cream for the pancakes, and Terry shrugs his shoulders and steps back to leave him be. But oh! He almost forgot! “Did you buy those blueberries for the pancakes that I asked you to?!” he half-yells over the sound of the mixer. He can just about make out a laugh in response.

“Yup! I’ve got ‘em in the fridge!”

“Dope! Thanks, Korvy!” 

* * *

The next time Terry hears Korvo expressing his newfound musicality is only a day or two later when the ship expert occupies the shower and the pupa expert is about to enter the bathroom to grab his toothbrush. He never meant to eavesdrop in the first place, but when he hears it, he can’t help but still and listen.

Korvo’s not even humming this time, but he’s singing.

_“Blue eyes_

_Baby's got blue eyes_

_Like a deep blue sea_

_On a blue, blue day...”_

Oh. That’s Elton John, isn’t it? Terry would recognize Elton John anywhere. A huge grin stretches across his features as he peeks his head inside the door and can make out the silhouette of his partner through the shower curtain, using the showerhead as a makeshift microphone. Terry clasps a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh. Korvo might not be Elton John when it comes to vocal performance, but it’s nice to hear his voice in this new way; to hear him having fun with something that isn’t ship repairment or math. It makes Terry’s heart flutter in his chest. What an odd sensation.

As he hears a bit more of the song, it hits him that there might be a certain theme to the music Korvo’s listening to. Both this and the ELO-song have ‘blue’ in the title. Is that a coincidence?

Korvo gets to the chorus, and Terry can’t help it, the song’s just way too damn catchy; so he sings along, still outside of the bathroom, leaning against the wall.

_“Blue eyes_

_Holding back the tears_

_Holding back the pain_

_Baby's got blue eyes_

_And she's alone again.”_

Realizing his solo-performance has turned into a duet, Korvo lets out a shriek that bounces off the bathroom walls and a laugh bubbles up out of Terry’s chest. He steps inside the bathroom to do what he originally came to do, and the other Schlorpian yanks back enough of the shower curtain to peek his head out and send Terry a bemused yet alarmed glare. “H- How long have you been in here?”

“Oh, not too long. Glad to hear that you’re finally embracing human culture, Korvo,” comes Terry’s casual reply. He squirts some toothpaste onto his toothbrush and Korvo once again looks away, face darkening a might. “I’m not!” he argues, then extends a dripping-wet arm from inside the shower, making a grabby-hand motion. “Hand me a towel!” he gruffs out.

Terry doesn’t get why Korvo’s so defensive about his hobby, but he complies with his request anyway, grabbing him a towel. Their hands brush for longer than a second with the exchange, and it shoots a spark of electricity up Terry’s arm. Korvo mutters something beneath his breath and steps out of the shower, the towel securely wrapped around his waist.

They don’t have the smallest bathroom, but with Terry standing right in the middle and blocking the exit, Korvo’s now chest to chest with him, just as taken aback by the sudden closeness as the other is. Terry freezes, toothbrush still where it sticks out of his mouth.

And sure, they’ve seen each other half-naked before, but this is different, somehow. Water droplets run down a spotted chest and a slightly pudgy belly; Korvo was clearly in a hurry to dry off. And he crosses his arms over his stomach self-consciously when Terry’s eyes flicker downward. He’s been teased about gaining some weight since they arrived at Earth, both by Vanbo and once, _affectionately_ , by the pupa expert. But Terry doesn’t think it makes Korvo any less attractive; it actually makes him look more cuddly and huggable.

A moment ticks on by. Their eyes meet, wide and unsure. The tension is high enough to be cut with a butter knife.

Korvo’s the one to break the silence by awkwardly clearing his throat, a flush working its way from his cheeks and down his neck and throat. He looks really cute. “So can I _pass_ , or…?”

“Oh! Oh yeah, o- of course! Sorry!” Terry stumbles over his words, stepping aside and nearly into the wall to let Korvo by.

When the door closes behind him, he allows himself a heavy sigh of relief and places one hand over his chest to feel how fast his heart is beating. _That speed cannot be healthy_ , he thinks, but tries to ignore it and go on with his nightly routine, distracting himself by humming the next verse of _‘Blue eyes’._

* * *

“Hey, da- _Terry!_ Are you and Korvo together?” asks Jesse from the passenger seat of the car, blissfully ignorant to the impact of her query. Terry blinks and tightens his grip around the steering wheel, swerving past a particularly slow vehicle. He’d rather not crash _this_ car too.

Not only did the replicant slip up and almost call Terry her dad, but now she’s asking about his relationship with Korvo? He doesn’t mind the former, not really; being around other kids at school must have taught Jesse the concept of parents at this point if her classes haven’t already. But has she somehow figured out Terry’s feelings for Korvo before Terry has properly come to terms with them himself?

Clearing his throat and attempting to school his expression into one of neutrality, Terry drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Why would you ask that?”

“‘Cause all our classmates’ parents are either dating or married,” Yumyulack chimes in from the backseat, arms crossed over his chest. He’s obviously miffed about not calling shotgun on the front seat first. Terry sends him a sympathetic look through the rearview mirror, then processes his statement. It surprises the pupa expert that the replicants compare themselves to their classmates. Doesn’t at least _one_ of those other kids have one parental guardian or parents who are divorced?

He’s momentarily distracted by the song playing on the stereo. It’s Norman Brooks, if Terry isn’t mistaken. He might only have inhabited this planet for a year or two, but he likes to think he knows his music by now. And the radio announcer further confirms his theory.

“Here’s an old classic; ‘a sky blue shirt and a rainbow tie’, by Norman Brooks!”

“Aw, Korvo would love this one!” Terry exclaims, turning up the volume. Both replicants stare wide-eyed at him in shock and ask, in incredulous unison: “He _would?”_

Right. They probably don’t know Korvo’s been getting into music lately. And Terry has this sneaky feeling his partner wouldn’t be too happy if he blew his secret. So he corrects himself rather smoothly, “Uh, _yeah_ , if he actually listened to music! Duh!”, and knocks up the speedometer just a bit to get home quicker. This ride is only making him question himself and his emotions more and more, and the song playing definitely isn’t helping. He turns the volume back down.

“And Korvo and I aren’t dating. We don’t like each other in that way,” Terry explains, though he has a hard time getting the words out. _Korvo_ might not like _Terry_ in that way, but Terry’s not so sure anymore. His grip unconsciously tightens more around the steering wheel. He focuses on the road.

A chortle of disbelief sounds from the back. “Yeah, right!” Yumyulack calls, toying with a poor miniature human he must’ve shot with the shrinking ray. He watches with a sadistically amused grin as it runs from one of his hands to the other in helpless disorientation. Terry can relate a worrisome amount to the human.

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” he raises, and Jesse pats his arm in an attempt to comfort, always the rational one. It does help ground Terry a tiny bit. He _finally_ pulls up at the driveway to their house and Yumyulack gets out at once, presumably to go store his new find in his bedroom wall. Terry doesn’t bother calling after him, he knows the Blue Schlorpian won’t listen to him anyway.

“He means you _seem_ like you like each other. That’s why I asked,” Jesse coos and grabs her backpack to exit the vehicle as well. Terry feels his face warm and wonders if that’s true. He knows _his_ affection for Korvo is probably noticeable by now, but could it be that his sentiment is returned?

He locks the car and is sent a reassuring smile from his replicant, who walks on up ahead to the house. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell. I don’t want you and Korvo to get together for _our_ sake, I want you to do it for _yourselves_.”

The front door closes after the kids step inside, and Terry lingers in the driveway, flustered and confused. So Jesse knows Terry’s fond of the ship expert, and she thinks they should get together? ‘For their own sake?’

As a child, and more importantly, as _Terry’s replicant,_ Jesse’s too smart for her own good.

* * *

With his composure regained and a clearer head, Terry steps inside the living room and finds his partner already on the couch, with an Ipad in his hands and a pair of over-ear headphones on. Terry doesn’t remember seeing Korvo buy those.

Jesse and Yumyulack are playing tag around the house, something that’s evident by all the running and yelling, and the pupa’s sleeping atop a fluffy, hot pink pouffe they bought him, snoring.

Terry greets Korvo and takes a seat next to him on the couch, but Korvo doesn’t react, since he can’t hear him. Terry waves a hand in front of him to gain his attention. “What?” huffs the ship expert, pushing the headphones down to his neck. Terry smiles. “I was just saying hi.”

“Oh. Hey.”

Well, here’s a shot in the dark. “What are you listening to?” Terry tries. Korvo blocks the tablet’s screen from Terry’s eyes and he makes yet another excuse.

“Nothing, I just have these on to block out sound so I can focus on my w-”

“Lemme try,” the green Schlorpian cuts him off and plucks the headphones off of him to put them on himself. Korvo makes an strident attempt to get them back, but Terry leans out of his reach, a hand on his chest keeping him from grabbing them. He can immediately recognize the rich dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra in his ears.

_“Blue moon!_

_Now I'm no longer alone_

_Without a dream in my heart_

_Without a love of my own.”_

When he gives the headphones back to Korvo, he yanks them out of his hands and glares at him with flustered anger, and Terry can only laugh. Korvo sputters in response, hitting him on the shoulder.

“See, _this_ is why I didn’t show you, I knew you were gonna judge me!”

Terry gasps for breath, trying to explain himself. “I’m not judging you! It’s just-... Oh, man!” but he trails off, still not done giggling. He leans into Korvo for a moment, appreciating the heat emitting from him. Korvo crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for Terry to finish.

“You have noticed a theme with these songs, right? First Mr. Blue sky, then Blue eyes, and now Blue moon!”

(Not to mention the ‘sky blue shirt and a rainbow tie’ that played on the car stereo! Though that one isn't Korvo’s doing. Or at least Terry doesn’t _think_ it is.)

“All of those have the word ‘blue’ in the title,” he concludes.

As though struck, Korvo jerks back an inch or two, on the defense with his partner’s accusation. “S- So what? T- That’s just a coincidence!” he snaps, Ipad and headphones forgotten as the assigned partners keep bickering back and forth without really going anywhere.

“Is it, though? Terry challenges back, and he watches Korvo open and close his mouth once or twice before deflating, head lowering as he scratches at his neck, sheepish. “Fine,” he says. He draws a thin breath before continuing. “I know it’s silly, but listening to these make me feel less like the ‘odd Schlorpian out’, so to speak. I mean, Terry, we’re the _only_ alien family on this entire planet! So yeah, this music makes me feel more validated, more… normal.”

Terry’s taken aback by Korvo’s reasoning, not having expected him to be so honest. Part of him thought Korvo had a superiority complex and listened to songs with ‘blue’ in the title to boost his own ego. What he’s saying makes sense, though, and Terry can even relate to it, in his own way. For him, wearing T-shirts with obscure sayings and quotes on them makes him feel like he blends in more with humans, and as much as he loves those tees, he doesn’t know what half of them are referencing.

Emboldened, Terry scoots a bit closer to Korvo, placing a hand over the one resting on the couch cushion. “It’s not silly at all.”

And Korvo blinks at him, thrown off. “... It _isn’t?”_

“No, of course not! In fact, it’s nice to see you’ve found something on Earth that you like. We’ve been stuck here for quite a while now, you’re not _betraying_ Schlorp by embracing this planet’s culture.”

The hand under his turns over and twines their fingers together. Korvo gives a grateful squeeze, and Terry’s heart skips a beat at the simple yet intimate gesture. “Thanks, Ter,” Korvo whispers. They look at each other for a moment, faces only inches away, breaths mingling into one. Then, a voice at the doorway makes them both freeze.

“Still not into each other, huh, Terry?” teases Yumyulack, leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin. _That little shit!_ Korvo yanks his hand back. “What?” he asks, deadpanned. Suspicious toward both his replicant _and_ his partner, he flickers his gaze from Schlorpian to Schlorpian. Jesse’s standing right behind Yumyulack, bouncing with excitement for her ‘parents’. She sends Terry a thumbs-up, and Terry rises from the couch, embarrassed.

“Hey, Korvo, there’s something I’ve gotta discuss with you in the kitchen,” he says, covering his hot face with one hand while grabbing Korvo’s in the other and leading him into said room.

“What? Terry, what the hell’s going on?”

He makes sure the replicants aren’t listening in and lowers his voice when he speaks next, doing his best not to look at Korvo all the while so he doesn’t lose his train of thought. He hoped to talk to the ship expert about his feelings toward him at a later time, when it felt _right_ , but now that Yumyulack had blown it, Terry might as well confess anyway...

“So when I was driving the kids home from school, they asked me if you and I were… y’know…” he trails off, training his eyes on the stove behind Korvo rather than _on_ him. Jesse and Yumyulack bringing up his and Korvo’s relationship might be a blessing, but there’s just as big a chance that it’s a curse, too.

Still, Korvo doesn’t seem to get it. And _he’s_ supposed to be the _smart_ one of them.

“What? Assigned evacuation partners?”

Terry refrains from an aggressive face-palm. Is Korvo really this dense, or does he just not want to realize the truth? “What, no! They already _knew_ that! They thought we were… the other thing…”

A lightbulb might as well flash above Korvo’s head, because all the color drains from his face and his eyes go wide as saucers. “... _Lifemates?”_

Terry’s cheeks are burning by now. He manages a nod, but then adds, for clarity: “Well, sort of. They have other terms here on Earth that are less… serious, I guess. Boyfriends, a couple, dating, whatever, they asked if we were together.”

“And what did you say?” Korvo urges, making this hand motion of _‘fucking tell me already’._

“W- Well, I told them the truth. That we don’t like each other that way,” Terry says, and it really hurts to say aloud again. Especially when it’s not wholly true. But Korvo’s reaction isn’t what he expected; he deflates in evident disappointment one second, and the other, he steels his expression. There’s a hundred different emotions flashing in his eyes, but he puts on a facade of indifference and nonchalance. “Right,” he mutters. Terry’s got this horrible sense of dread that he said the wrong thing.

“Sh-... Shouldn’t I have?”

With a shrug and an: “Of course you should have. If that’s how you feel, then great! Glad things are clear,” Korvo is rather quick to try and leave, but Terry’s heart lurches into his throat until he can taste it and he’s suddenly made aware that he can’t let him go. He grabs his wrist and anchors him. “Hey, wait!”

Korvo stops but doesn’t turn around to face him. His voice is cold when he asks: _“What?”_

“How do you feel about me?” Terry asks, but it sounds closer to a plea, his voice wavering. Korvo whips around and breaks Terry’s grip on his wrist, wetness shining in his eyes as he demands: “Does it _matter?!”_

“Of course it fucking matters!”

“Why?!”

 ** _Why?_ **Terry can’t believe this, Korvo really is clueless. Terry won’t be able to convince him with words, he’s never been good with those, but he can still _show_ Korvo how he really feels. So he swallows his doubt and crosses the distance left between them to yank Korvo into an insistent kiss.

At first, Korvo’s arms remain mid-air and he’s generally unresponsive, soft lips still against Terry’s, but then something must click into place for him, as he wraps his arms tight around the other’s waist and answers his enthusiasm with matching urgency. He hums his approval and it buzzes pleasantly against the other pair of lips. A warmth blooms in Terry’s chest that spreads out to his very fingertips. It’s like he’s been walking around with his eyes closed until now. This just makes sense, the two of them; like two matching (if a little jagged) puzzle-pieces finding each other.

But the moment of bliss doesn’t last long, because a string of cheers erupt from behind them; or rather, behind _Korvo_ and _in front_ of Terry, and the older Schlorpians jump apart.

The replicants are hooting and applauding them from the doorway. Had they been there all this time?

“I fucking told you, bro!” Jesse yells and high-fives her brother. Both their care-givers, flushed in the face and _furious_ , yell at them to ‘get back here!’ when they run off to their room, giggling.

“They aren’t coming back, are they?” asks Korvo, exasperated. He’s got his face buried in his hands, the blush almost peeking through his fingers. Terry finds him adorable. He gently pulls his hands away from his face. “I don’t think so,” he chuckles, almost leaning against his partner in a silent wish to kiss him again. Korvo indulges him.

“So you,..” he begins when they part, and Terry nods. “I mean, you- like me?”

 _“‘Like’_ is an understatement,” winks Terry, feeling triumphant when Korvo turns bluer than he’s ever been.

* * *

That night when they lay in bed together, snuggling, Korvo excuses himself to do something he ‘doesn’t want to forget before they go to sleep’. Terry’s reluctant to let him go, he’s so comfy and warm, but Korvo promises he’ll be quick and kisses him on the forehead, and that’s all the convincing Terry needs.

He waits patiently in bed for his partner to come back, but it takes longer than he suspected, and before he knows it, he’s out like a light.

“Terry.”

“Terry, wake up! It’s Korvo!” Jesse shakes him awake, and her words send a surge of panic through Terry’s whole body. He launches upright in bed, instantly wide awake. He asks what happened, disoriented. “Listen,” Yumyulack instructs him. Neither of them look alarmed, rather _annoyed_ , and Terry can indeed hear a bass-boosted beat from above them and a hauntingly familiar melody. Is that Eiffel 65?

All three sleep-robbed family members march right the fuck up to the ship on the roof where the music is blasting, and when they open the door, it only gets louder.

Oblivious to their presence, Korvo’s having a dance party for one next to this huge speaker and screaming along to the lyrics of ‘I’m blue (daba dee)’ by Eiffel 65. At - Terry checks the clock on the wall - _**1 AM IN THE MORNING!** _

It’s honestly amusing as hell to see Korvo pull out some moves Terry’s never seen before, but it’s also way too late for Terry to be completely okay with it. He and Yumyulack shout the other blue Schlorpian’s name to get his attention, but Jesse’s way ahead of them, walking up to the speaker and turning it off. Korvo freezes, mid-cabbage patch.

“Huh? What’re you all doing up?” he asks, clearing his throat and assuming a ‘normal’ position. Terry gives in to the face-palm this time, explaining how the kids woke him since they couldn’t sleep because of the noise.

“Listen, Korvy, we’re all really happy you found yourself a new human hobby, but maybe save it for the morning?” he pleads, the replicants nodding their agreement.

“Of course. I didn’t realize I was that loud, sorry.”

“Where did you even _get_ something like this?” asks Jesse, gesturing to the monstrosity of a speaker that’s _twice_ her size when she’s standing next to it. Korvo doesn’t miss a beat. “Yumyulack.”

Terry and Jesse send the true culprit the stink-eye, and the younger, blue Schlorpian points at himself, scoffing. “Oh, so it’s _my_ fault?!”

Jesse nods. “Partially, yes.”

The siblings start squabbling and Terry decides to be the one to take responsibility. “Okay, you two have school tomorrow, so Jesse, Yumyulack; marsch straight to bed. And you too, Korvo.”

All three Schlorpians respond with a resigned “Yes”, and it’s probably the first time they’ve all listened to Terry before. They come down from the ship and the replicants actually do as they’re told and go to their bedroom. Meanwhile, Terry and Korvo head upstairs to their own room, hands linked together as they giggle quietly to themselves. They tumble into bed.

“Why the fuck were you up dancing to Eiffel 65 by yourself in the middle of the night anyway?” whispers Terry, snuggling up next to his assigned **and** chosen partner. Korvo releases a tired yawn, a dopey grin on his face. “I dunno, I guess I was celebrating us. I’m just really happy,” he admits, earnest. Terry’s overwhelmed with adoration and affection for his newfound boyfriend, and he presses sleepy kisses into his neck, mumbling a: “Sop,” against his skin.

“You know it.”


End file.
